


something original

by MyMindIsDarkButItCanBeBrightForYou



Category: Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Intrusive Thoughts, Probably a little OOC, Self-Doubt, deceit sucks, how do tags work, i dont really like this but eh, i should have given logan and patton more time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 16:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13685211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyMindIsDarkButItCanBeBrightForYou/pseuds/MyMindIsDarkButItCanBeBrightForYou
Summary: A while after Can Lying Be Good? the sides have returned mainly to normal life. However, Deceit manages to worm his way into Roman's thoughts, causing the creative side to doubt his ideas.





	something original

Despite how he acted, Roman knew he wasn’t the best of the sides. He wasn’t clever like Logan nor upbeat and constantly positive like Patton, and he certainly didn’t have Virgil’s ability to keep Thomas safe. In fact, one might say he did the opposite; he often encouraged Thomas to take risks that were probably best left unpursued. These thoughts had been sitting there for a while now, and he guessed that’s probably where it started.

Monday had been a normal enough day; he bounced a few ideas off of Thomas for a short while before leaving to brainstorm in his room. He’d been jotting down a concept for a video when the first thought had hit.

“ _No one’s going to like that idea, it’s completely unoriginal._ ” Roman shook his head. Where had that come from? Of course people would like it; in fact, he bet they would adore it. Re-adjusting his sash, he returned to what he had been writing.

A while later, when he was about to head down to dinner, another thought popped up. “ _Are you really sure you should be eating right now? You haven’t come up with anything yet._ ” Looking back, he guessed he hadn’t. Everything he’d written down had simply been ideas, nothing concrete. So he remained at his desk, not noticing when the ceiling light turned to a yellow tint.

He didn’t realize how long he’d been working until his alarm, set to 8:00, went off without him having left the desk. He wanted to go grab some small snack, but something was telling him he needed to keep working. “ _You’ve created nothing,_ ” it said. “ _You have to commit something worthwhile, if you’re even capable of that._ ” The last part sounded smug, and part of him was screaming that this was wrong, this _wasn’t him_ , but he continued working anyways. What was the point if he wasn’t helping anyways?

The thoughts continued for the rest of the day, keeping him locked in his room. “ _Is that really the best you can do?_ ” they said. “ _Surely any of the other sides could do better than that. If you can’t create anything worthwhile, then why are you trying?_ ” Focused on the paper in front of him, he didn’t notice the changes happening around him. Crumpled ideas filled the wastebasket and spilled over onto the floor. The lights that weren’t off glowed yellow, basking the room in a sinister golden light. Posters began to peel from the walls, some abandoning their post entirely and falling to the floor.

Obsession to create a truly original idea consumed Roman. Maybe this would-- no that was too similar to something else-- what if-- no, absolutely _not_ \-- perhaps--. Through all this, the voice in the back of his head remained, reminding him that what he was creating wasn’t good enough, becoming louder and more prominent as time went on.

Knocking on the door, quiet and first, slowly grew in volume, though his mind refused to acknowledge it, pushing him to work, _work, work--_

“Roman?” Someone had entered and placed their hand on Roman’s shoulder. His pencil continued to fly across the page, ignoring the intrusion of this new presence. “Roman,” whoever had entered spoke more insistently. The person sighed, taking hold of his hand, preventing him from writing. Roman turned to confront them.

Virgil stood in front of him, forehead creased in concern. Roman attempted to take his hand back, to keep working, but Virgil’s grip held fast. He sighed in frustration.

“What is it?” he insisted, though his voice lacked its usual conviction and energy.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” Virgil dodged his question. The voice in his head urged at him to turn away, that he needed to make at least _one worthwhile thing_ , and he began to lose himself to it again. Virgil, noticing this, shook Roman’s shoulder, prompting him back to reality and allowing him to think of the answer to his question.

“What day is it?” he settled on.

“If you have to ask that, it’s been to long. Now, why don’t we get you some food and then--”

“No,” Roman insisted. “I have to work, have to create, have to make _something_ worthwhile.” While he spoke, the lights grew darker, the yellow tint becoming more and more prominent, shadows creeping in from the corners of the room.

“What do you mean?” Virgil glanced around the room to grab a chair, noticing the change in lighting.

“Nothing I create is good enough, all my ideas are garbage, and if I can’t create one idea then what’s the _point of me being here at all--_ ”

“Hey,” Virgil said, taking on the softer tone of someone attempting to comfort a spooked animal. “Breathe with me. Can you do that?” He began to breathe in slower, exaggerated breaths, and Roman attempted to mimic him.

“I ca- I ca- I can’t,” Roman breathed out, struggling to get the words from his brain to his mouth.

“Yes, you can,” Virgil encouraged him. “Once you get the first one, the rest will be easier.” Eventually, Roman managed one breath, and the rest of the exercise became easier, until he could breathe normally.

“You know you don’t have to constantly be creating. Everyone needs breaks,” Virgil said, slowly letting go of Roman’s hand. When he didn’t move to continue writing, Virgil allowed himself to let go completely. “Do you know when all this started?”

Roman shook his head. “The thoughts just… appeared. Like a voice that’s not mine. Everything was fine until then.” Virgil seemed to put some unknown pieces together, and a light of realization filled his eyes.

“Deceit,” he said. “It’s Deceit who’s telling you this.” He stood up, hand falling from Roman’s shoulder. “Well?” His voice was louder now, though not quite yelling. “Where are you, you coward?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” a new voice purred. Deceit stood in the corner of the room, hands pushed together and a malicious smile on his face. Haughtily, he sauntered over to the other two sides, placing a hand on Roman’s shoulder. The reappearance of Deceit caused the thoughts to crash over Roman again. Seeing the daze return to Roman’s eyes, Virgil gritted his teeth.

“Get away from him.” Virgil tried to step forward, but Deceit raised his other hand and forced him to stop. Gathering his will, Virgil fought Deceit’s control, finally breaking it. He charged toward the malicious side, pushing him from the room and breaking the spell over Roman. Just then, the other two sides, having felt that something was wrong, burst into the room. At Patton’s confused look, Virgil mouthed ‘Deceit’, and the fatherly side nodded in understanding. Virgil turned back to Roman.

“Are you back with me?” he asked carefully. Roman hesitated, but then his eyes cleared and he nodded. “Ok, good.”

“What happened kiddos?” Patton had reached the two, placing a hand on Roman’s shoulder.

“Deceit was telling him that all his ideas were worthless,” Virgil answered, anger still bubbling under the surface, though he pushed it down to deal with later.

“Aw, you know that’s not true, right Roman?” Roman hesitated in answering, which gave them the answer.

“Deceit is the embodiment of lying,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses. “Whatever he says is a lie.”

Roman nodded. “I know, it’s just..”

“Sometimes it’s hard to convince yourself it’s not true,” Virgil finished. Roman nodded again. “Look, I can’t give you some magical advice that will instantly fix everything. But, I can tell you that you _matter_. Even if you’re not creating some revolutionary thing every minute, you’re still important to us. If Logan, Patton, or I were constantly working, would that be okay?” Roman shook his head. “Same goes for you.”

“Virgil is right,” Logan said. “If you constantly work, you’ll burn yourself out.”

Roman gave an unsure smile. “I guess you’re right.”

Patton clapped his hands together. “Now, let’s head down to dinner. I made spaghetti, so it’s im-pasta-ble for you to miss!” The other sides laughed, and Roman seemed to brighten slightly. While Deceit wouldn’t disappear completely, they didn’t have to face him alone.

**Author's Note:**

> i live for reviews. also, i am open to prompts if you want. thanks for reading!


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